"There is. Our sources tell us that other members of the Convocation want to know whether you plan on continuing your uncle's business strategies." 

Gee it would sure be nice if she was going into this conversation with some idea of what her uncle's business strategies FUCKING WERE. Well, she knows about the lasers. Is it the lasers they're concerned about? Good question! Hard to say!

"I figure from the custom engraved profanity vase I saw at his funeral that he must've been doing something right," she says instead of any of that.

"That might be a matter of some debate," he says. "But regardless, they're all very interested in what you decide to do from here, as that will likely have an immediate impact on their business and lives." 

Shrug.

"Anything else from your bosses?" Morrison asks.

"That's what I was told to tell you," Jacobs says. 

"Alright," Morrison says. She takes her phone back out. "Now, Jacobs, my turn to help you. How do you want to die?" 

Jacobs sits up and smiles. "You mean I get a choice?"

"Normally we liquefy you in a barrel," Morrison says. "It's easy and realistic and makes for a good show on video. But if you'd like we can drama it up." 

"Can you throw me into the volcano?" Jacobs asks. "Because that would be amazing." 

Morrison shakes her head. "We're really not set up for that. The places on the island where the magma comes to the surface are covered in geothermal generators and equipment. We don't actually have a lava pit to toss people in. Even if we did it'd be anticlimactic. Lava's not like water, it's actually super dense. You wouldn't sink into it. You'd just lie on top, crisping."

"That's disappointing."

"Sorry." Morrison looks at her phone, reading off a list. "We have gunshot, torture and stabbing, drowning with or without electrocution, electrocution with or without drowning. You could be strangled if you'd like. If you're determined to die in an exotic way, we could feed you to a shark. But I have to warn you that's hit or miss. Sharks don't really like to eat humans. More often than not they just take an exploratory bite and then swim away. Then we have to fish you out and put you in a barrel anyways." 

"Still, death by shark is great on the resume." 

"It's a popular choice. Some years we kill more people by shark than actually die by shark in the oceans. After we hit that level we tell people to pick something else."

"Oh!" Jacobs suddenly brightens up again. "What about death by laser?" 

"You want the Goldfinger?" 

"That's almost as good as a shark, if it's available." 

"Sadly it's not," Morrison says. "The space we use for that has been taken over by a laser lithography fabricator. It's a clean room now. We can't get blood all over the place anymore. Sorry." 

Jacobs frowns. "I can't decide which way to go," he says. 

"We could have..." she starts to turn to look at April, then trails off. "Nevermind. If you're not sure, let's just go with the fifty-five gallon drums," she says. "Simple. Classic. Stands up well to examination." 

"But they're so uninteresting," Jacobs replies. 

"Uninteresting but practical." She presses a few more buttons on her phone, and puts it away. "Someone will be in here shortly to help you through the process. I'm sure you know this already, but please follow all their instructions, and don't go places you're told not to go. We can very easily make your death real." She stands up. 

"I've already heard the spiel," Jacobs sighs.

"Good." She turns to April. "We're done here; let's go. There's still a lot to do today."